


Sometimes It Takes a Village

by Hazel_Athena



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8532331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: In which Faraday thinks he's a man on a mission, but really he needs to just get over himself and go after what he wants.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Technically I should be working on one of my larger projects, but those both involve a fair amount of angst and that's just not what I need right now. Nor, I think, do most of us. As such, you guys can have this silly piece of fluff instead. It comes from a list of single sentence tumblr prompts that I keep saved on my computer for times when I need inspiration. The prompt in this case was, "If you're breaking up with me tonight, can I at least finish eating first?" It was probably supposed to be for something less serious than how I ended up using it, but what can you do?
> 
> For the record, the working title for this was Joshua Faraday: Romantic Disaster, which probably tells you all you need to know.

“I’m sorry, you want to do what?”

Growling, Faraday repeats his idea through gritted teeth. “And don’t think I don’t know you just wanted to hear me say it again,” he adds, frowning.

Goodnight chuckles, the soft sound of amusement doing little to belay the fact that he’s still a squirrely bastard who wants to see Faraday suffer.

Faraday growls again, thoroughly unamused. “This is what I get for askin’ the opinion of a man who thought settling down with Billy Rocks was a good idea.”

Unaffected, Goodnight just laughs again, while, behind him, Billy rises up over the back of the couch, apparently having been summoned by the sound of his name.

“Sorry, Joshua,” Goodnight says, still sniggering. “I didn’t mean to cause you any offense, truly.”

Unwilling to be mollified that easily, Faraday crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the other man, only minutely concerned by the way Billy’s eyes narrow at the sight. “The least you could do is answer my question,” he says pointedly.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose that’s true.” Goodnight scratches absently at the scraggly beard he’s been sporting for the past couple of months. Personally, Faraday thinks it does nothing for him, but he’s not about to risk Billy’s wrath by saying as much. “Well, I don’t see how it’d be a bad idea. The two of you have certainly been together long enough. What do you think?” He asks, tilting his head inquiringly at Billy.

Billy snorts. “A hundred dollars says Vasquez kills him within a week.”

“Hey!” Faraday protests, while Goodnight, the asshole, starts laughing again.

“That seems a little pessimistic, cher.”

“A month then.”

“I’m not exactly feeling the love here, you assholes,” Faraday huffs. “I’m bein’ serious –“

“A rarity to be sure,” Goodnight agrees.

“- and you two are acting like I’m joking!”

“Alright, alright, calm down, Joshua.” Goodnight soothes, even though he should know that’s only likely to set off Faraday’s ever volatile temper. “You know we’re only teasing.”

“That don’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate it if you’d stop,” Faraday mutters. He jams his hands into the pockets of his coat, the fingers of his left hand twisting around his keys when he finds them buried in there.

“Yes, yes.” Goodnight gives him a grin, but at least this one’s somewhat sheepish. “I apologize. I realize you came here with something serious you wanted our advice on, and we shouldn’t be messing with you.”

“Says who?” Billy asks, propping his chin on his arms as he continues to lean over the back of his and Goodnight’s couch.

“Billy,” Goodnight warns, proving once and for all that he really is the love of Billy’s life since no one else would ever dare take that tone with him.

Billy shrugs, unrepentant.

Goodnight shakes his head fondly before glancing back to Faraday. “I think you should do it, Joshua. After all, the worst that could happen is he says no, isn’t that true?”

As far as Faraday’s concerned that’s hardly a small risk, but he nods in response anyway. There’s no point in asking for their advice if he’s not at least going to pretend to acknowledge it.

*****

“How come you were with Billy and Goodnight today?”

Startled, Faraday looks up from the plate of food he’s got awkwardly balanced on his knees, only saved from having to answer right away by the fact that he’s still got half a forkful of mashed potatoes stuffed in his mouth. “Wha-?” He asks, voice muffled by the food he’s only half chewed.

Vasquez, perched on the other end of the couch with his own supper plate settled more securely on his lap, grimaces. “Very attractive, guero.”

Swallowing, Faraday offers him his best sheepish grin. “S’what you get for talkin’ to me when you know I’m trying to eat.”

“You’re going to end up wearing what you’re trying to eat, if you’re not careful, guero.”

Faraday grins at him. “You’re only sayin’ that because you want me to get my feet off the coffee table.”

“I wouldn’t mind so much if you didn’t still have your boots on.”

Glancing down at the booted feet in question, Faraday wriggles them slightly, making the heavy coffee table shift beneath him. “I’ll clean it up after,” he promises, “and besides, it’s my coffee table anyhow. On account of us bein’ in _my_ apartment at the moment.”

Vasquez nods, conceding the point. “Fine, but you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Hmm?” Faraday asks. “Sorry, what was it again?”

“How come you stopped in at Goodnight and Billy’s today? We saw them just last Tuesday.”

“Forgot my poker chips,” Faraday says promptly, which was even true. He’s just leaving out the part where he’d deliberately left them behind after last Tuesday’s poker night so he’d have an excuse to drop by unannounced.

Chasing what Faraday thinks is a stray string bean around his plate with his fork, Vasquez raises an eyebrow. “That’s not like you.”

Faraday shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “I reckon the argument could be made that I wouldn’t have forgotten ‘em if _someone_ hadn’t been distractin’ me all night with a pair of obscenely tight jeans and all other manner of inappropriate behaviour.”

“Oh, so now you are blaming me?” Vasquez shakes his head sadly, but there’s no missing the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “That is very unfair.”

“Uh huh,” Farday says, scraping up the remainder of the food on his plate into one last, possibly over-large forkful. “You always say I’m bein’ unfair when it’s you I’m criticizing.” He adds, right before he stuffs the final parts of his supper in his mouth.

Vasquez makes the same face he always does whenever Faraday does something that makes him question all the life choices that have lead him to this place. Faraday might be worried if he didn’t look so goddamned fond at the same time. “You are disgusting,” he says, without any real rancor.

Swallowing, Faraday grins sunnily over at him. “And yet we both know you want me anyway.”

Vasquez rolls his eyes heavenward, and then moves forward to drop his own empty plate down on the coffee table, taking care to put it on the glass section where it won’t damage anything, as opposed to the wood, which is liable to get scratched. Faraday thinks, not for the first time, that he really is an excellent houseguest.

Sliding over, he pulls the plate from Faraday’s hand and moves to set it atop of its fellow. “You seem awfully confident about that, guero.” He murmurs, shifting in close.

Faraday smirks at him, leaning up to meet him halfway. “I can’t imagine why.”

*****

Jack’s holding a screaming toddler in his arms when he opens the door the next day. Faraday assumes it’s one of his plethora of granddaughters, but children at that age all look the same to him so it’s not as if he’d be able to tell the difference.

“Um,” he says, shuffling from foot to foot as he stands out on the front step of Jack’s home. “You know what? I can come back.”

“The hell you can,” Jack snaps, unusually harsh for him. “Maya’s out running errands and she’s left me here to watch these monsters all by my lonesome. Get in here.”

Faraday blanches. On the long list of things he wouldn’t do for just anybody, babysitting is very near the top. “I think I’ll pass, thanks,” he says, already turning to try and head back down the porch steps so he can make his escape.

“Faraday,” Jack says, and Faraday curses the desperation lurking within the old man’s reedy voice. “Inside. Now.”

Groaning, Faraday does as he’s told, noting with no small degree of horror that there are at least three more children – one sitting in a bouncy swing and two others running free – scattered about the living room, which looks like a series of tiny hurricanes have hit it.

“Maya willingly left you alone like this?” He says, staring out at the mess, a sinking feeling settling deep in the pit of his stomach.

Maya Horne had stuck by her husband all throughout his long and often times arduous military career. It wasn’t like her to just abandon him in the face of such obvious chaos.

“I accidentally put the good china through the dishwasher the other night,” Jack says mournfully, trying with very little success to remove a tiny hand from his snowy white beard. “This is my punishment.”

“Wow,” Faraday whistles, impressed by Maya’s dedication to vengeance. “Remind me never to cross her.”

“Pray that you don’t,” Jack agrees. “Now, help me stop Maggie and Esme from coloring on the walls and then tell me what it is you’re here for.” He peers over at Faraday suspiciously. “I don’t imagine this is a social call.”

Faraday shrugs. “I need you advice on somethin’,” he mumbles, toeing awkwardly at the carpet of Jack’s living room. “I tried asking Billy and Goodnight yesterday, but they mostly just laughed at me.”

Jack cocks an eyebrow at him quizzically, but then smiles. “Alright. Help me with the children and I’ll listen to whatever it is you have to say.”

Faraday wrinkles his nose, unsure of whether or not that’s a fair deal, but equally unwilling to pass up the opportunity to get some help with his ongoing conundrum. “Ugh, fine. You’ve got a deal. Now,” he looks over at the kids sprawled hell west and crooked all over the living room, “which one’s which again?”

*****

“What _have_ you got in your hair?” Vasquez asks when he stumbles across Faraday scrubbing at his head in front of the bathroom mirror later that night.

“Fingerpaint,” Faraday growls, annoyed. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you this shit comes out easily because that’s a fuckin’ massive lie.”

Vasquez stares at him. “What in the world were you doing that could possibly involve fingerpaint?”

“Tryin’ to wrestle one of Jack Horne’s granddaughters into submission,” Faraday grumbles. He thinks the green streaks of paint are finally starting to rinse out, but he’s still not certain. “I think it was Esme, but it might’ve been Caitlyn.”

If Vasquez’s eyebrows go any higher, he’s going to risk having them fall off his head entirely. “Do I even want to know?”

“I was hoodwinked,” Faraday informs him. “Tricked. Bamboozled. Thoroughly conned into minding a batch of pint sized hellions in exchange for … well, never mind what it was in exchange for, I can assure you it was not worth it.”

“Okay,” Vasquez is still peering at him suspiciously. “Guero, you have been acting very strange these past couple of days, even for you. What were you doing over at Horne’s?”

“Told you, I needed a favor from him.”

“Uh huh, right,” Vasquez acknowledges, “but you won’t tell me what this favor was?”

“Can’t,” Faraday replies glibly, hoping Vasquez won’t read too much into his false cheer. “Hey, hand me that bottle of shampoo, will you? I’m thinking maybe if I do one more solid wash I’ll be able to get this crap out.”

Frowning, Vasquez does as requested, handing the bottle over and then making a startled noise when Faraday grabs for him as well once he’s within reach.

“Wanna help me clean up?” Faraday asks with a salacious waggle of his eyebrows.

Vasquez huffs a laugh, clearly amused in spite of himself. “Well, when you put it like that,” he says, giving a delightful wriggle of his hips, “how can I resist?”

*****

“No.” Sam stares out impassively at him from behind the protection of his screen door. “Whatever it is, just no.”

“Aw, come on, Sam.” Faraday whines. “Lemme in, would you?”

“No,” Sam says again, but with what Faraday thinks is a little less fervor. “Jack’s already called to warn me he figured you’d be stopping by, and Billy and Goodnight confirmed it when I called to ask them. Well,” he adds thoughtfully, “Goodnight confirmed it, but I’m pretty sure I heard Billy sniggering in the background.”

Not for the first time, Faraday resolves that if the man weren’t so goddamned terrifying, he’d sock Billy Rocks right in his perfect jaw. To hell with whether or not Goodnight would shoot him for it.

“Saaamm,” Faraday says, drawing the name out in a way he knows the man in question hates. “Can’t you see I’m desperate here?”

“You’re something, alright,” Sam grouses, but he steps back and opens the door like Faraday’d known he would. “Fine, come on in. I think I’ve got some of those beers you like kicking around in the back of the fridge.”

“You’re a good man, Sam Chisolm,” Faraday says, clapping him in the shoulder as he sidles past him into the house. “What would I do without you?”

“Keep on going down your list of people to ask for advice, I imagine,” Sam says, and Faraday grins in acknowledgement of his point. “You want to tell me why, exactly you’re making such a big deal out of this?”

Settling himself down at Sam’s tiny kitchen table, Faraday gratefully accepts the beer he offers him. Pulling out his keys, trying and failing to ignore the extra glint of metal located there, he uses the keyring to pop the top off, offering the same to Sam.

“No thanks,” Sam braces the top of the bottle on the edge of the table, and then slaps his hand down on top of it, causing the cap to pop off. “I’ve got my own.”

Grinning, Faraday stuffs his keys back into his pocket. “Show off.”

Sam shrugs. “It’s my table. I can ruin it if I want to.”

“Fair point.” Faraday salutes him with his own bottle, before taking a hearty swig.

“So,” Sam says once Faraday’s downed closed to half the bottle in one gulp. “It sounds like you’re facing a bit of a conundrum.”

“Little bit,” Faraday agrees.

“You afraid he’ll say no?”

Faraday nods.

“You afraid he’ll say yes?”

Faraday nods again. “That too.”

“Ah.” Sam shrugs. “Then I guess what you have to ask yourself is if you’re okay with the status quo.”

Faraday sighs, picking at the label on his beer bottle in order to give his hands something to do. “I just don’t want to screw things up,” he admits, voice more subdued than it usually is.

Sam gives him a long look, and then sighs. “Kid, the only thing I can tell you is that you need to make up your mind. Now, personally, I suspect things’ll go fine if you just get over yourself and talk to Vasquez about what’s up with you, but I also know you well enough to know that there are, against all evidence to the contrary, times when you don’t like to take risks. I can’t make the decision for you, though.”

“But you’re saying you think I should do it.”

“I think you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already have the answer to your question.”

Faraday wants to protest, wants to say he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he should do, otherwise he wouldn’t be here asking, but there’s a certain glint in Sam’s eye that’s telling him to cut the bullshit. He sighs instead. “I dunno,” he says finally. “I just don’t know.”

Across from him, Sam rolls his eyes heavenward in an obvious request for patience. “Get out of my house, Faraday. Go home to your boy, and tell him what’s on your mind.”

“Yeah, sure, I will.” Faraday agrees, and neither of them point out how they both know he’s lying.

*****

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Faraday gasps out, much later that night when he’s lying completely spent in his bed, Vasquez’s warm body curled around him as they both slowly come down from the high of one truly spectacular round of sex. “Oh, darlin’. _Damn_.”

Beside him, Vasquez chuckles, the sound a low rumble emanating from deep within his chest, one Faraday can feel where their sweat slick bodies are pressed tightly together. “So appreciative, guero. I’m flattered.”

“You should be,” Faraday informs him. “I don’t let just anybody have their way with me like this.”

“No?” Vasquez murmurs, voice low as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along Faraday’s chest, nipping none to gently at the base of his throat at one point. “You saying I’m special then?”

“Jesus, you fuckin’ vampire,” Faraday groans. “I’ve never met anybody so damned keen on markin’ me up.”

“I like to be able to see my handiwork,” Vasquez says, biting down on the same spot again. “Makes me feel important.”

Faraday huffs a laugh, bringing one hand up to bury it in Vasquez’s dark curls, digging his fingers into the man’s scalp in exactly the way he knows he likes. “You do realize you ain’t the only one who knows what makes the other tick, right?”

“Mmm,” Vasquez hums appreciatively, contentment practically rolling off him in waves as he nuzzles at the side of Faraday’s face. “I don’t remember ever saying I was, guero.”

“Just checking.” Faraday says. “I mean, what if you’d tried to bet me that you were? Then where would we be?”

“I know better than to bet against you,” Vasquez informs him, dropping a feather light kiss onto Faraday’s cheek. “It’s never a good idea to do that with someone so willing to take risks.”

“Hah,” Faraday says, turning his head so that he can catch Vasquez’s lips in a kiss of his own. “Funny you should say that. Sam just told me today that he thinks there are some things even I won’t take a chance on.”

Vasquez pulls back, frowning in the dim light. “Sam?” He queries. “When did you see Sam today?”

“This afternoon,” Faraday replies, not thinking anything of it. “Before you came over after you got off work.”

Vasquez makes a noise in the back of his throat, and Faraday’s not entirely sure it’s a good one. “First Goodnight and Billy, then Horne, and now Sam. Is there something going on I should know about, Joshua?”

Faraday winces. Vasquez using his first name is always either a very good thing or a very bad thing, there is no in between. Sadly, judging by his tone, it looks like they’re facing the latter scenario.

“I’m just … sortin’ some stuff out,” he says lamely.

_Now would be a good time to ask, Joshua_ , he tells himself sternly. He could easily fend off Vasquez’s worries if he’d only work up the nerve to open his mouth and spit it out. On the other hand, he probably shouldn’t say anything if Vasquez is upset with him, as that might color his response. _Yeah, let’s go with that. It’s got nothin’ at all to do with me bein’ scared shitless._

“Joshua.” There’s a note of warning lurking in Vasquez’s voice that’s promising all kinds of unpleasant retribution if Faraday keeps ignoring him.

“It’s nothin’, sweetheart,” Faraday says, reaching out and drawing Vasquez back towards him, not liking how he’s shifted back across the bed during their conversation. “I’d tell you if it was anything bad, I promise.”

Vasquez holds himself stiffly for a few more minutes, everything in his body language making it clear he doesn’t believe Faraday, but, slowly, he settles. “You’d better,” he grumbles, apparently mollified for the time being.

*****

Unlike his first several targets, Faraday knows better than approaching the next one at home. He also knows better than to show up without some kind of bribery, which is why he walks into the mechanic’s garage carrying a tray of coffee and a bag of chocolate donuts.

“Huh,” says Red as he rolls himself out from beneath the truck he’s working on. “None of the others mentioned getting treats when you came calling.”

“That ‘cause none of the others are liable to break my face for asking them to get involved in my personal shit.”

Red just cocks a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Okay, except for Billy,” Faraday acknowledges. “But that was why I made sure Goodnight was there when I got his opinion.”

“And you really want my opinion on this?”

“Yep.”

“That’s not like you.”

Faraday shrugs, hoping to convey with the motion that this situation is not like other situations and deserves to be approached with the appropriate levels of caution.

Red sighs. “Give me the coffee.”

Faraday does so.

“And the donuts.”

Obediently, Faraday hands those over as well.

“Good,” Red says as he takes them. “Now, here’s what you do. Stop being a dumbass, ask him what you want to ask him, and get the hell out of my work place. Preferably in a reverse order.”

All too aware that it’s always a bad sign when oh-so-taciturn-Red starts talking more than usual, Faraday gives him a grateful nod and skedaddles, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he bolts for his car, and thinking that, on the whole, that could have gone much worse.

*****

Vasquez is at his own apartment for the night. He’d claimed to have something early happening at work the next day, but, since Faraday’s apartment is actually closer to Vasquez’s office by a none too considerable margin, he doesn’t buy it for a second.

_You’ve abandoned me :(_ he sends by text somewhere around eleven o’clock when he’s lying in bed, unable to sleep thanks to there being so much room in the bed. Over the past year he’s gotten used to falling asleep with a warm body next to him more often than not, and he knows easily which situation he prefers.

He’s not really expecting a response, which is why he’s surprised when his phone lights up a few moments later, the words _It’s only for one night_ scrawling across the screen.

Faraday picks his phone back up. _Doesn’t mean I have to like it :((((_

_Enough with the sadfaces, guero. I’ll be over tomorrow._

Faraday breathes out a sigh of relief. Until right this moment, he hadn’t realized that was something he’d been concerned about. _Promise?_

_Si, I promise._

_Good._

*****

“So let me see if I get this straight,” Emma says, from where she’s sprawled on Faraday’s couch, a bowl of chips she’s refusing to share balanced on her stomach, and the TV remote within her reach even though it’s not currently switched on. “You’ve been asking basically everyone you know to weigh in on this monster decision of yours, one that has _clearly_ got you on the verge of some kind of existential breakdown, and you asked both Horne _and_ Red before me?”

Faraday shrugs. Laid out before him, he really doesn’t have any excuse. “If it helps, the only reason I didn’t ask you before Teddy was because he followed you over here.”

“I heard that,” Teddy calls from where he’s buried in the bowels of Faraday’s kitchen, probably searching for some form of snack or other that Emma doesn’t like and therefore won’t steal from him. If he eats the risotto Faraday has hidden in the fridge for supper, he’s a dead man.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I cared,” Faraday yells back, grinning when Teddy materializes back in the living room, empty handed and with an unimpressed glare firmly etched across his face. “You know you love me,” he adds, smile widening.

Teddy appears unmoved. “I ain’t Vasquez,” he says snidely, and now it’s Faraday’s turn to glare.

“Asshole,” he mutters. “See if I ever let you in here again.”

“You didn’t let him in to begin with,” Emma reminds him from her perch. “I did.”

“All the more reason for me to kick him out then,” Faraday points out.

She shrugs, clearly unbothered. “Suit yourself. I’m his ride home, though, so if he goes, I do too.”

“Ugh,” Faraday says with feeling.

“Yeah,” Emma says, voice smug. “That’s about what I figured.”

Smirking, despite the fact that his food hunt appears to have turned up nothing, Teddy wanders fully into the living room and drops down into the overstuffed armchair that Faraday had avoided in favor of planting himself on the floor with a beer in hand and the coffee table within reach. “What’re you laughin’ at?” Faraday grumbles, not liking the way the younger man seems to be amused about the whole situation.

“I’m laughing at you,” Teddy says, confirming Faraday’s suspicions. “Why, does it bother you?”

Faraday turns to look at Emma. “Is there a reason you couldn’t have just left him out on the front steps?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you really want to hear my two cents on your little problem. Though, for the record,” she adds pointedly, “I don’t consider it a problem. You’re the one who’s making a mountain out of a molehill. From what I’ve heard, every last one of the others has already given you the exact same answer.”

“Okay, yes, but …” Faraday flaps a hand in a vain attempt to illustrate his ongoing conundrum. “But.” He says again.

“Oh, but nothing,” Emma scoffs, fishing a handful of chips out of her bowl and slowly beginning to eat them one by one. “If you had an actual excuse for all your fretting, you’d be able to articulate it,” she says, not bothered by the fact that she’s talking with food in her mouth. “Not even you are this bad with words, Faraday.”

“Um, excuse me, I am great with words,” Faraday protests, scowling when both Emma and Teddy burst out laughing. “My mouth has gotten me out of all sorts of problems, thank you very much.”

“Sure,” Emma snorts, “but only after it’s gotten you into them first, I’ll wager.”

Unwilling to acknowledge her point, and as much as he’d like to deny it there is some truth to what she’s saying, Faraday stays quiet.

“That’s what I thought.” Emma says, and Faraday doesn’t even need to be looking at her to know she’s smirking.

“Regardless,” he says finally, or tries to; only to have Emma cut him off again.

“There’s no regardless here, Faraday. We all know what you want,” across the room, Teddy nods in agreement, “so get off your ass and bring it up with the only other person who’s opinion on the subject actually matters.”

Groaning, Faraday leans forward until he can rest his forehead on the surface of the coffee table. “But it’s hard,” he whines, knowing he sounds like a twerp and yet unable to stop himself.

“Oh my god,” says Teddy.

“I know,” Emma agrees. “This is quite possibly the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m including the time Matthew tried build an Ikea bookcase on his own in that.”

“Now is not the time to start talking about your stupidly perfect husband, Emma,” Faraday grunts, his face still firmly planted in the coffee table. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a fuckin’ crisis here?”

“It’s not a crisis,” she says, and Faraday can tell without lifting his head that she’s rolling her eyes, “and even if it were, it’s one entirely of your own making, so I’m only so willing to humor you.”

Now Faraday finally does raise his head. “This,” he says darkly, “is exactly why you were so far down my list of people to go to.”

“Oh blah blah blah,” Emma says, unmoved in the face of Faraday’s ire. “Just tell him what your problem is and get over yourself.”

“Who has a problem?”

Startled, Faraday turns towards the living room doorway, surprised to find Vasquez there, in the process of shrugging out of his coat. “You’re early,” he says, he hadn’t been expecting the other man for at least another hour. Then he frowns. “And how’d you get in here?”

“The door was unlocked,” Vasquez replies, and Faraday shoots a dirty glare in Teddy’s direction. “What?” Teddy asks, raising his hands defensively. “You were the last one in,” Faraday reminds him.

“So?” Teddy asks. “Are you honestly trying to say you’d rather Vasquez not be able to get in here?”

Faraday glares at him harder, dearly wishing he was close enough to give the little bastard a serious thump upside the head.

Still in the doorway, Vasquez snorts. “Te sorprenderias,” he mutters darkly.

Faraday doesn’t speak enough Spanish to know what that means, but he doesn’t like the tone of voice it comes out in. However, when he looks at Vasquez inquiringly, the other man just shrugs.

“Who has a problem?” He asks again, and Faraday winces. He’d been hoping Vasquez would forget about that.

“No one,” he says quickly. “You hungry? Supper’s in the fridge if you want it. It just needs to be heated up.”

Vasquez gazes at him impassively for a couple of seconds, and then sighs. “Fine,” he says, and disappears out of the room.

An uncomfortable silence descends in his wake, broken only by Teddy pointedly clearing his throat. “Yeah,” he says slowly, “I recognize that I’m the only person in here who’s not in a serious relationship, but I think you need to tell him now.”

Emma nods her head in agreement. “He knows something’s up,” she says, “but he doesn’t know what and it’s bothering him.”

“Thank you both for that rousing yet entirely unnecessary clarification,” Faraday growls. “Now kindly get your backsides out of my home. Emma, leave the food behind.”

“Spoilsport,” she says, even as she drops her half eaten bowl of chips down on the coffee table.

Faraday watches quietly as they leave, and then climbs to his feet with a sigh. He makes his way into the kitchen, grimacing when he sees that Vasquez is slowly picking at the now-heated risotto, his sock covered feet kicked up on the tiny kitchen table in what Faraday can only deem to be a harbinger of doom. Vasquez on the whole has far better manners than Faraday, feet on the table is not normal behaviour for him.

“Hey,” Faraday says softly, propping himself up against the kitchen doorway.

Vasquez grunts in response and takes another bite of his meal.

“How was work today?”

“Fine,” Vasquez says shortly. “How was your latest secret meeting?”

Faraday winces. Yep, he is definitely in trouble. “It wasn’t a secret,” he mumbles.

“Mhm,” Vasquez replies. Another bite. Bite, chew, swallow. Lather, rinse, repeat. Faraday’s half tempted to rip the plate out of his hands just on the off chance it’ll make Vasquez look him in the eye.

“Look,” Faraday starts, but Vasquez cuts him off.

“Joshua,” he says, voice tired, “if you’re breaking up with me tonight, can I at least finish eating first?”

Faraday gapes at him. “What?” He yelps, voice going far higher than he’d care to admit. “What are you – _what_?”

Vasquez just shrugs, and Faraday bites back a curse.

“Oh my god, fuckin’ Christ hell almighty!” Okay, so maybe ‘bites back’ is something of a misnomer. He pats frantically at his pockets and then swears again. “Jesus _fuck_ , my fuckin’ keys are in my coat. Hang on.”

Vasquez frowns. “We going for a drive, guero?”

“No, we are not goin’ for a fuckin’ _drive_ ,” Faraday growls. He’d been halfway turned to head towards the bedroom, where he knows he’d thrown his coat earlier, but now he stomps back into the kitchen, all the way over to Vasquez so he can grab the man by his shirt front and haul him in for a kiss.

“Fuckin’ break up with you,” he snaps. “What a fuckin’ stupid thing to think.”

Vasquez gives him a baffled look, clearly having no idea what’s going on, so Faraday’s forced to kiss him again.

“Wait, no,” he says when he pulls back. “That’s not what I meant to do.”

“No?” Vasquez echoes, and now he looks worried again.

“Keys,” Faraday insists. “I need my damn keys!”

“Why do you need –?” Vasquez starts, but Faraday cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“Nope, keys,” Faraday barks. “Hang on. Don’t go anywhere,” he adds, pointing a finger furiously at Vasquez as he backs out of the room. “I mean it, you stay right there.”

Darting into the bedroom, he grabs his coat up off the bed, shoving his hand into the nearest pocket and rooting around until he comes up with what he’s looking for. “Fuckin’ finally,” he says prayerfully as his fingers find the extra key he’s been carrying around with him for the better part of a month now. He stomps out of the room and down the hallway, all the while fighting to get the spare key off the ring.

“Joshua, what is _wrong_ with you?” Vasquez demands as he comes back into view. “You are acting like an insane person.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Faraday demands, crowing triumphantly when he finally works the key free of the ring. “Got it!”

“Here,” he says, striding across the kitchen to Vasquez. “Gimme your hand.”

Hesitantly, Vasquez holds out his hand, looking alarmed when Faraday impatiently grabs it and unceremoniously drops the key he’s just ripped free into it.

“Joshua?”

“I hate your apartment,” Faraday informs him, which is not what he’d meant to say, but he’s willing to roll with it. “It’s cramped, it’s stupidly far away, and when you’re staying in it you’re not staying with me. You should get rid of it.” Rant over, he folds Vasquez’s hand closed over the key now resting in his palm and waits for a response.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long.

“Joshua,” Vasquez says, eyes wide. “Joshua, are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Fuckin’ obviously,” Faraday grits out, only belatedly realizing that he has not, in fact, actually _asked_ Vasquez anything of the sort. “Er,” he says, freezing. “At least that’s what I’m tryin’ to do?”

“Madre de Dios,” Vasquez says, but he’s smiling delightedly, the sight causing something to loosen in Faraday’s chest. “Yes, you foolish man. Of course I will.”

“Thank fuck,” Faraday breathes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been tryin’ to work up the nerve to ask you?”

“Did you seriously think I’d say no?”

“Uh, yeah?” Faraday shakes his head. “Why else do you think I’ve been goin’ around to pretty much every friend we have and gettin’ their opinions on my chances?”

Vasquez sputters out a laugh. “ _That’s_ what you’ve been doing?” He throws his head back and cackles, his sides heaving with laughter as he rocks back and forth in his chair, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s not that funny,” Faraday grumbles, face heating. He thumps Vasquez lightly on the shoulder in the vain hope it’ll get the peals of laughter to stop. “Seriously, would you knock it off? Vas!”

“Si, si,” Vasquez gasps, swiping at his eyes, apparently having laughed so hard he’s nearly crying with it. “I’m calm, I’m calm.”

“You’re a nut, is what you are.” Faraday tells him. “And a rude one at that. Honestly, I tell you I’ve been workin’ myself into a lather over this mess, and all you can do is laugh at me. That ain’t nice, sweetheart.”

“Yes, I know,” Vasquez says, ruining his poor attempt at an apology by the fact that he’s still fucking snickering. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“Liar,” Faraday says, but they both know there’s no heat in the word. He shifts from foot to foot, biting his lip for a second. “You sure you want to do this?”

Finally letting the last of his giggles fall away, Vasquez gently places the key Faraday’s handed him down on the table and then gets to his feet. His smile is still firmly in place, damned near blinding in its intensity, and when he wraps his arms around Faraday’s shoulders he lets out a pleased hum as Faraday brings his own hands up and settles them on his waist. “What do you think, guero?” He asks, voice a low rumble in Faraday’s ear.

“I think,” Faraday says, feeling not unlike he’s just had the wind knocked out of him, “that I’d still kind of like to hear you say it.”

“Then, yes,” Vasquez says softly, “I’m sure I want to do this.”

“Good enough,” Faraday decides, and this time he swallows down Vasquez’s ensuing laugh with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I haven't taken a Spanish lesson in going on twelve years and I was never very good at it to begin with. However, if Google translate is to be trusted then "te sorprenderias" roughly translates as "you would be surprised". Obviously, Vas was not in the best mood with Faraday when he said this.


End file.
